


We Stabbed at Happiness

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Series: OFF poetry [2]
Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You decide when the credits roll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Stabbed at Happiness

On the head of condemnation,

we tried to build a life where there was no air

to fill our balloons, so instead we took gasps

inherited by candles. And we burned

lanterns in every acre; every inch of nothing

became a factory, a city, a farm. A production

method of mistakes. Where we cast our shadow

of progress in the slimmest neck-tie forms,

our candles bickered, our supply dwindled,

and moths came to bloom in our heads.

We wanted more. We never had a thing.

When our regret comes to ring in our ears -

shush it away, slap it down, give it medicine for the night.

But something has caught on the trail of crimes,

and something in us has noticed infertility.

Perhaps that is what inflamed

the carnal self-destruction in our cement.

(Call him a stranger to the throne,

but he has known us all with a personal grudge.

Whisper for now, he’s here : we are not gone yet or both

in ghosts. **You** decide when the credits roll.)


End file.
